


17 Again

by DIPHYLLEIATAE



Series: freeze the time at seventeen [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Healthy Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Movie Night, Past Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann, Post-Canon, endgame jack/kent, endgame jackparse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-18 05:53:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8151328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DIPHYLLEIATAE/pseuds/DIPHYLLEIATAE
Summary: “I can’t believe I actually thought I was in love with you, once.”17 was a bad time for both of them, they both know that. Except now Kent's kidding himself into thinking he can move on and Jack's kidding himself into thinking he has moved on and for some reason, 17 seems a much better time than now.





	

**Author's Note:**

> – honestly i was hella sick when i wrote and i barely just edited this right now so don't expect much  
> – this might be a series??? idk??? does anyone want a series of this weird post canon au????  
> – characters belong to ngozi ukazu
> 
> [tumblr](http://daeguarchives.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](http://twitter.com/daeguarchives)

“ _I can’t believe I actually thought I was in love with you, once.”_

☾

Jack realised something was wrong when he woke up with a killer hangover, _alone._ It’s not like he and Parse made a habit to sleep together but usually, after a heavy night out, the two of them ended up in Jack’s bed because it was the closest to the front door.

They’d rekindled their friendship after the two of them had been forced into conversation by Tater, who just wanted Jack and Kent to sort their shit out. Their friendship had only gotten stronger when Jack and Bitty had broken up – things were getting harder and Jack was getting more publicity and everything was more secretive than ever. The two of them were still good friends, evident in the fact that Bitty sent him and Kent care packages every month of new recipes. Kent and Bitty’s relationship started mending itself when Kent had gotten very drunk and emotional at Bitty’s New Year party. Jack and Kent had only started living together as friends after Jack got traded to the Aces, a year ago. It made sense, at the time.

The second thing that helped Jack realise that something was wrong was that he could smell eggs but he couldn’t hear any music. _Kent always listened to music while he cooked._

Jack stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth before he slowly made his way into the kitchen. Kent was standing in front of the oven with his back to Jack as he flipped over the egg carefully before he plated the eggs and toast up. Kent’s movements were rigid and slow as if he didn’t know what to do whereas normally, Kent moved like he did on the ice – fast and slightly out of control. Kent placed the plate in front of Jack before he reached into the microwave to get his own plate out. They sat in silence and started eating before Kent spoke up.

“I think you should find another place to stay.”

Jack thanked God that he wasn’t drinking anything when Kent spoke up, otherwise it would have gone all over Kent.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you should find another apartment and live there instead.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed at Kent, “You asked me to stay here. You, not me.”

Kent dropped his fork with a sigh, “Do you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know that I asked you to stay with me, because I wanted to be better friends, because I missed you, because I never stopped giving a shit about you even though you clearly don’t give a shit about me anymore?”

Jack’s eyes hardened at the accusation, “How can you say that I don’t care, Kent? It takes two people to build up this friendship, it was me who helped you get home all those times you were drunk out of your mind, and it was me who was there for you when you panicking about your future at two in the morning? How can I do all that and then you still come to me and say that I don’t care?”

Kent looked guilty about what he had said and then he laughs, and it’s bitter and humourless but Jack can see that it was the same defence mechanism Kent used when he was 17, “Don’t tell me you can’t remember what you said last night.”

“What did I say?” Jack asked, warily.

“I’m not telling you, you can remember it. That’s sort of how brains work.”

“Kent, I was hammered last night. You weren’t, tell me.”

Kent looked Jack in the eye before he looked down again and continued eating his eggs, ignoring any attempt of Jack’s to find out what he did. When he’d finished eating, he almost stuck himself to the counter tops so Jack couldn’t touch him (even though he knew Jack could reach his hand out, there and then) as he made his way to the sink to wash his dishes.

“I’m going to shower,” Kent said as he swallowed down a handful of pills with a glass of water.

Jack sat there for what seemed like hours, thinking about what he had done. He couldn’t remember, he just couldn’t. So he stood up and went to the bathroom, Kent never locked it but he didn’t want to just barge in. He stood outside the bathroom door, thinking about what he was going to say to Kent when he heard Kent’s voice from inside.

“You can come in, you know?”

Jack took a deep breath and walked into the bathroom, his eyes comically widening at the sight in front of him.

Kent wasn’t showering like Jack thought he had been doing. He was sitting on the shower floor, naked, as the spray of water carried on hitting his head. Kent had his knees tucked up to his chest with his arms around his legs, _as if he was trying to hold himself together._ He continued to look at the floor, not once sneaking a glance towards Jack, not when Jack reached in to turn the shower off, not when Jack asked him if he could touch him, not even when Jack picked him up – arms under Kent’s knees – in the white towel he always used.

Kent sat on the bed, pulling the towel tighter around himself at regular intervals because the room seemed to be much colder than the shower, but otherwise he did nothing. Jack came over with sweatpants and an old hoodie and laid them in front of Kent, who made no attempt to wear them. Jack picked up the hoodie and made his way to Kent, gently pulling the hoodie down over his head, lifting his arms through the holes, still not gaining a reaction. He then picked up the sweatpants, sliding them over Kent’s feet and legs before Kent picked himself up slightly so the sweatpants would cover his crotch. He towelled Kent’s hair dry and styled it using his fingers with no protest from Kent. Jack then sat next to Kent, picking up the pillows so they were leaning against the headboard and pulling the various blankets over them.

They sat in silence, once again.

“I told you to stop drinking last night,” Kent spoke up.

“You were getting a little loud and I didn’t want you to do anything that the press could spin in a different direction. So, I sat you down with a bottle of water and told you to stop drinking. You told me to go fuck myself,” Kent said with a watery smile.

“Then you went to get another drink but for some reason you came back to the table. I watched you drink a hell of a lot before I tried to stop you again. You told me to go fuck myself, again and said some shit about how I was a buzzkill who should just take a shot. And then you said,” Kent paused for a while.

“What did I say, Kent?”

“You said you couldn’t believe that you actually thought you were in love with me, once,” Kent replied, his voice quiet.

“Oh God, Kenny.”

Jack couldn’t quite believe that he had been that horrible, how could he have just attacked Kent like that? Drunk Jack had hit Kent right where it hurt when all Kent had been trying to do was be a good friend.

He knew Kent still loved him, saw the hurt in his eyes when Jack introduced him to Bitty, saw how Kent never called his dates or hook ups ever again; they were all one time things, and he saw just how much Kent loved him, _silently._ Kent never tried to pull a move on Jack, even when he had just broken up with Bitty or the two years he had been single after that. Kent had been suffering silently and last night, Jack made it all the worse.

There had been that _one_ night when Kent had broken down in front of Jack and let go of all his feelings. They never talked about it after that night - partly due to Kent wanting to ignore it and partly due to Jack not being able to find a way to talk about it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a hand on his arm.

“You need to chill, Zimms,” Kent’s voice, desperately trying to stay together, “That wasn’t why I was upset. I mean, yeah, it stung a little, but I was upset because I realised just how fucking stupid I had been.”

“Stupid?”

“Yeah, stupid. I mean, can you believe I have spent the last ten years trying to get over you? And you never even loved me like that. Jesus, what a fucking dumbass.”

“I didn't mean it, Kent.”

“Sure, you didn't. Drunk words, sober thoughts, remember?”

“No, Kent. I'm telling you right now, I didn't mean it. I–” Jack found himself being cut off by Kent.

“You do realise that I will make peace with it one day, right? I'm not going to spend the rest of my life pining after you, I'm getting the help I need and I'm going to be okay.”

Jack slapped a hand against his forehead, “Just let me talk, okay?”

Kent shrugged, “Go ahead, got nothing to lose, do I?”

“I was in love with you back then, okay? You were my first everything – my first friend, my first boyfriend, my first love. And, I guess a part of me will always be in love with you, just like a part of me still loves Bitty. You don't forget the love you feel for anyone, especially, your first love, even if it was more dysfunctional than it was domestic. Yes, Bitty helped me out so much and I'm never going to be able to repay him for that, never. But, you were there first, Kent. It was always you who was first.”

Kent shuffled so his head was resting on Jack's arm, “I understand that and I appreciate it, honestly, I do. It's just– I think it would be better if you moved out, just for a while.”

“How long for?”

“I don't know, Jack. I don't know.”

☾

A couple of months go by, and Jack has now moved in with Shitty but he left most of his things at the apartment – the two of them knew this arrangement was only temporary. They talk regularly, they have to, they are on the same hockey team now. It isn't just that, they text a lot – more than they had before and morning calls are a lot more regular but they never talk about _it._

Never talk about if Kent is getting over Jack, it's a topic that seems to be on the tip of both their tongues but neither actually has the courage to approach the topic.

They still have their Friday binge night, never miss it anymore, they'd already missed too many in years of missed connections. The two of them are watching the second season of The Fosters in Kent's bedroom, leaning against the headboard with Jack's arm slung over Kent's shoulders. Kent's head is resting on Jack's chest as he shuffles and pulls the blanket over both himself and Jack. Jack leans down and kisses the top of Kent's head, making Kent move away from him with a confused expression and Jack returns the gaze, seemingly less confused.

The two of them stare at each other, knowing full well what will happen next if neither of them say a word.

And yet, no one says a word.

Kent tentatively places a hand on Jack's knee, using the lack of resistance to move forward, close enough so he can feel Jack's cool breath fan his face. He looks up at Jack; Jack, who is looking at him with an expression he'd only seen when they were two 17 year old idiots in love. Jack raises a shaky hand and caresses Kent's cheek gently before dipping down and kissing Kent. The feeling of Jack's lips on his own felt familiar but so unknown at the same time. Jack's lips are still slightly chapped and they move against his the way they did when they were 17 except now Jack is more experienced, he knows how to kiss Kent properly now.

It's only when Kent realises that they aren't 17 anymore that he pulls away with wide eyes.

“We– We can't do this. Not, not now. Not ever,” Kent stammers out.

“Why not?” Jack whispers, looking surprisingly wounded.

“Because I don't get a happy ending, not with you, never with you, Jack.”

“Kenny,” Jack pauses, “I–I,” Jack closes his eyes and tries again as he looks Kent directly in the eye.

“I love you.”

Kent's eyes widen once again, “What? How? If this is about you trying to make me feel better about what happened a couple of months ago, I'm going to ask you to leave. Don't do this, Zimms. I was telling the truth when I told you I'd move on, I mean, I haven't but I will. So you need to st–” Kent's words are cut off by Jack.

“I wasn't finished, Kent. That conversation a few months ago made me realise that I want to try again. We're different now, we're more mature, more accepting of the help that we receive, _we're better now,_ Kenny. You and I are so much better now and I want to try again with you. I want to try this relationship again, I want it to be like it was when we were 17, but better and healthier and everything else I wanted it to be when I was 17. Of course, it's going to take a while to get back to where we were and we're going to need to talk about so much but I want to try again.”

Kent looks up at Jack with tears in his eyes, “You really mean that?”

Jack looks down at Kent and places a small kiss on his forehead, “I do, Kent. I really do.”

“I want to try again too.”

Jack presses a chaste kiss to Kent's lips, “I love you, Kenny.”

Kent smiles at him; a small, shy smile, “I love you too, Jack.”

 


End file.
